Luohu's figure vanished beyond the cave abode.
He cradled that jar of fine wine with the utmost care, as though he held the ultimate truth of an entire realm.
Gu Changqing did not watch him leave.
He had not even opened his eyes.
He remained sprawled crookedly across the bluestone, the Wine God Gourd in his arms, hazy with drunkenness, his snores barely audible.
It was as though what he had just handed over was merely a cup of the most ordinary wine, not worth mentioning at all.
And yet.
After Luohu departed, Gu Changqing's seemingly drunken eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
In that instant, a glimmer of clarity beneath his intoxication flashed and vanished.
What no one knew was this.
Gu Changqing had bestowed that jar of fine wine to help Luohu comprehend the Dao neither on a passing whim nor in a sudden burst of inspiration.
Rather, it was the result of repeatedly weighing and discerning Luohu's thoughts over this period.
There was no doubt that Luohu was deeply calculating and full of cunning schemes.
His old title of Demon Ancestor had not been forged through world-shaking slaughter alone.
But precisely because of this, Gu Changqing understood better than anyone that once a deeply calculating man sincerely pledged allegiance, he would never turn against his master lightly.
Such a man knew best how to judge the times and weigh the circumstances, and understood most clearly that "a true outstanding talent knows which way the wind blows."
After this period of lying low and observing, Gu Changqing had already seen into Luohu's heart.
This Demon Ancestor of countless ages now harbored not the slightest disloyalty toward either the Interception Sect or Gu Changqing himself.
This was not Gu Changqing's conceit.
It was fact.
The reason was simple.
Luohu was